An Unconventional Affair
by Piccolo999
Summary: Very AU. Hermione Granger comes to Hogwarts to teach Transfiguration. Here she meets an unusual, stony faced wizard named Harry Potter, unlike anyone she has ever met before. Outside of Hogwarts, a threat rises in the form of a calculating Dark Wizard, intent on seizing control of the Wizarding World. HP/HG pairing.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Blah blah blah. should just put a blanket disclaimer on the site for all the idiots that could possibly believe we actually own these stories or make any kind of a profit.

**A/N:** This story is very AU. I have played around with a lot of things. I will let you discover what as the story progresses. This is just a teaser really. A little prologue to whet your appetite. I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think. Thanks.

An Unconventional Affair

Prologue

Sixteen-year-old Harry Potter sat outside his family home in the small village of Godric's Hollow. He was perched against the wooden fence that encircled the front garden, staring up into the starry sky with a blank expression on his face. The wind was out in full force, carrying with it a chill, although you wouldn't know it from looking at the young wizard. He didn't move an inch, not even a shiver, except for the repetitive tap his extended fore finger made, one every second, tap… tap…tap, against the fence.

Harry just kept on gazing up into the sky, tapping his finger, and otherwise doing nothing. He paid no attention to the chill wind, to the motions of a cat slinking home in the wee hours of the morning, or even to the hooting of a nearby owl. It was as if the rest of the world did not exist for him, except for the fence upon which he sat (and tapped) and the black starry void into which he stared.

And if you were granted insight into the thoughts of Harry Potter, you would find them not upon his imminent return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which was a significant event, given that it would be his final year at the school. Nor would you find his thoughts on any of the usual things boys his age often thought about. No, for Harry Potter was not your average boy wizard. He was different. If you were granted insight into his thoughts, you would find them simple enough, for his mind was clear but for a steady, rhythmic counting, that coincided with his tapping fore finger.

…seven thousand seven hundred and sixty one… tap… seven thousand seven hundred and sixty two… tap… seven thousand seven hundred and sixty three.. tap…

A light came on in the house behind him, yet he paid no attention, and continued to count.

…seven thousand seven hundred and sixty four… tap…

The door of the house opened, spilling light into the night.

…seven thousand seven hundred and sixty five… tap…

A figure appeared in the door, robed and silhouetted against the light.

…seven thousand seven hundred and sixty six…tap…

'Harry?' The figure, unmistakably a woman, called out.

Harry paid no attention and kept on counting.

…seven thousand seven hundred and sixty seven… tap…

The woman let out a tired sigh, and then clutching her robe tight against the cold, she stepped out into the chilly night. She grit her teeth, her red hair whipping in the wind, and finally made it to the end of the path, where Harry balanced on the fence.

'Harry?' she repeated. 'Honey, it's cold. Come inside.'

Harry ignored her, his count unbroken. He was now entering into the seven thousand seven hundred and seventies, his tapping finger ticking off each number on the dot, perfectly timed.

The woman reached out a hand, as if thinking of tapping Harry on the shoulder, but then thought better of it and let it fall to her side. Instead she looked up into the sky with him, grim faced and shivering.

Tap… tap… tap, went Harry Potter's finger, up through the seven thousand seven hundred and seventies, then the seven thousand seven hundred and eighties, and finally into the seven thousand seven hundred and nineties.

The woman remained as she was, patiently waiting, clutching tight to her robe to keep what little warmth she had inside.

Tap… tap… tap… until at last Harry reached seven thousand eight hundred and twenty three. His finger stopped its tapping, his head moved slightly, and then lowered. He took a breath, and then shifted his eyes and head to look at his mother.

'Happy Birthday Harry,' Lily Potter said. 'Please, can we go inside now?'

Harry nodded, hopped off the fence, and followed his grateful mother inside.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Blah blah blah. should just put a blanket disclaimer on the site for all the idiots that could possibly believe we actually own these stories or make any kind of a profit.

**A/N:** First proper chapter. Hope you guys like.

An Unconventional Affair

Chapter One

Twenty-five year old Hermione Granger returned to Hogwarts on a Saturday, the 31st of August, 2013. She arrived in Hogsmeade, bursting into existence with a crack, a stack of books held under one arm, holding her trunk with the other. A light breeze flapped her long dark blue robes against her black leggings, and caused her short curly hair to flutter against her rosy cheeks.

The village was quiet in the early morning, the streets empty save for a few fellow pedestrians, who waved to her or greeted her with a polite, 'good morning', as she made her way steadily through the village, towards the lane that would take her up to the castle on the hill top above.

Hermione had to drag her trunk behind her, half way up the lane to the castle, before help arrived in the form of a half giant, the gamekeeper of Hogwarts, and its current Care of Magical Creatures Professor, Rubeus Hagrid. The giant, bushy bearded man stomped towards her with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his booming voice probably echoing for miles around. 'Hermione! So good ter see you again. 'Ere, let me help you with tha'.' That said, he seized her trunk and lifted it easily, carrying it over his shoulder with one hand.

'Thanks Hagrid,' she said, smiling gratefully. 'I would have shrunk it down, but I hate how creased my clothes become when I do that.'

'Never took you fer someone worried about appearances,' Hagrid commented.

'I'm not really,' Hermione said, laughing a little. 'Okay, maybe a bit more than I was when I was a kid.'

'You sure 'ave grown up.' Hagrid looked her over teasingly. 'All worried about how you look. Short hair. Make-up? Yeh, you really 'ave.'

Hermione scowled. 'Is that a bad thing? So I take care with my appearance. I'm still the same Hermione, you know! I just look nicer.'

Hagrid laughed loudly. 'That you do. Come 'ere,' he said, and proceeded to crush her in a huge bear hug. Hermione winced. 'I 'ave missed you. Ma' favourite student, you were.'

'Thanks Hagrid,' Hermione said, rubbing the small of her back once he released her. 'I missed you too. I'm glad to be coming back to Hogwarts. I really am. I know I had a hard time here, socially, but the castle was like a second home for me for so long. And I did make some good friends, in the end.' She smiled pointedly at the giant.

'Yeh, well,' Hagrid mumbled, suddenly shy. He gestured at the books she carried. 'What's with the books? Not enough room in yer trunk?'

'I told you I hadn't changed all that much,' Hermione said with a wink.

The two old friend, once Professor and student, now colleagues, chatted amiably all the way up the lane to Hogwarts, reminiscing on old times, catching up and renewing their friendship. Finally, with the creaking of the massive double doors, they entered the castle of Hogwarts, to find the Headmaster of the school waiting patiently, with a house elf standing by his side.

'Ah, Miss Granger,' Albus Dumbledore said warmly, shaking her hand. 'I trust your journey was pleasant?'

'Hello Professor Dumbledore,' Hermione replied. 'It was, thank you. And thank you for sending Hagrid to help with my trunk'

'Please, call me Albus.'

'Oh, well, only if you call me Hermione.'

'Agreed.' Dumbledore gave Hagrid a small nod and the giant set down her trunk, bade Hermione farewell for now, and left her alone with the Headmaster. 'Now, Dobby here will take your trunk and put it in your new chambers. Meanwhile, I will show you around.'

'That sounds like a plan.'

'This way then,' Dumbledore said, leading the way. 'I'm sure you still remember where to find most places, after all it wasn't too long ago that you were a student here. We are all very impressed with how far you have come. I was sceptical, when you first applied for the position, but I am glad to say you proved me very wrong indeed.'

'Thank you,' Hermione said, blushing from the praise.

'That said, I will show you around the staff room, introduce to your fellow Professors, and then take you to your new office and sleeping chambers.'

Hermione followed Dumbledore as he led her through a door off the entrance hall, into a part of the castle she had never been in before. The corridor was brightly lit, and along the wall were many portraits, some occupied, others empty for the time being, but all of them, according to the plaques underneath them, belonging to past Professors of Hogwarts.

At the end of the corridor, Dumbledore opened a thick wooden door and led her into the staff room. It was a long room, wood panelled, and filled with mismatched chairs of all kinds, some hard, wooden, and very uncomfortable looking, and others plush and cushioned and, after the long walk Hermione had taken up to the castle, very appealing. A small fire crackled charmingly in a stone fireplace, warming the room with a golden glow.

Here she was re-introduced to some of her old Professors, among them a squat witch with very dirty fingernails named Pamona Sprout, and the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, one of her old, favoured teachers, Remus Lupin.

Remus was, in Hermione's opinion, the best teacher in Hogwarts. He taught with an enthusiasm that was infectious, inspiring even the laziest student into action. His tall, lean frame was always clad in well fitting, expensive suits, covered by light robes, and his thick brown hair reflected his dress style, always combed to perfection. He had trained as an Auror with his childhood friends James Potter and Sirius Black, but unlike them had decided, despite passing the exams with flying colours, that the job was not for him. That had brought him here, to Hogwarts, where he could put his knowledge of combating the Dark Arts to good use.

'Hermione.' Remus gave her a tight hug. 'I was thrilled to hear that you'd be taking over Transfiguration this year. You'll do marvellously, I'm sure.'

'Thank you Professor.'

'We're equals now Hermione,' Remus reminded her, 'so call me Remus.'

'It'll take some time to get used to this,' Hermione laughed. 'I keep thinking of you all as my old Professors. It feels wrong somehow, to call you by your first names.'

'You will get used to it,' Dumbledore put in.

'Yes, I'm sure I will.'

The door to the staff room opened and in walked a strikingly attractive red head, the type of woman that always made Hermione feel self conscious and decidedly plain. The woman smiled pleasantly as she spotted her and walked over to join them.

'Hermione, this is Lily Potter,' Remus introduced her. 'She took over as Professor of Charms fours year ago when Professor Flitwick retired. Lily, this is our new Professor of Transfiguration, Hermione Granger.'

'Oh,' Hermione said, 'very nice to meet you… Lily?'

Lily shook her hand and smiled. Hermione was drawn to her eyes, for they sparkled a brilliant emerald green. 'Lily is fine. It's very nice to meet you as well, Hermione.'

Hermione looked at Remus. 'Potter?'

'Yes,' Remus said, smiling, 'Lily is the wife of my friend James. Remember? I'm sure I told you many stories about him, Sirius Black and myself.'

'I remember.'

'We attended Hogwarts together,' Lily said fondly, 'all four of us sorted into Gryffindor. Those three, they didn't half manage to get into all sorts of trouble.'

'And you never failed to help us out of it,' Remus added.

'Well, somebody had to,' Lily teased.

'Anyway, when Flitwick retired, I thought who better to replace him than my old friend Lily? I recommended her to Albus and here we are, like old times, except this time we're on the other side of the fence.'

'Not that you'd know it,' Lily continued to tease, 'the way you teach your class!'

Remus laughed. 'My students love it, don't they Hermione?'

'I know I did.'

All three of them laughed.

'We best be getting on,' Dumbledore interrupted. 'Dobby should have finished preparing your chambers, so why don't I take you there and then you can get settled? There will be plenty of time to catch up tonight at dinner.'

'Sure,' Hermione agreed. She turned to Lily. 'It was nice to meet you.'

'You as well.'

'I'll save you a seat at dinner,' Remus said, as Dumbledore led her from the room.

'You better!' Hermione called from the corridor. She heard Remus laugh again, which brought a smile to her face. It was good to be back at Hogwarts.

'This way Hermione.' Dumbledore again led her, this time back the way they had come, up the nearest flight of stairs to the first floor of the castle, and then immediately into her new office, which was just to the right of the staircase.

Hermione whistled. The office was bigger than she had expected, and had a large window into which the morning sunlight flooded the room. There was a fireplace with a mantelpiece, which was unlit at the moment. The previous owner, the stern faced Minerva McGongall, had left her mark on the space, but Hermione could see the potential already, and couldn't wait to get to work on sorting it to her liking.

'I hope this is satisfactory?'

'It's fantastic,' Hermione replied, rushing over to the window with enthusiasm. The view was incredible, looking out over the Quidditch pitch, the sun just peaking over the top of the mountains in the distance.

'Through here you will find a stairwell leading up to your private quarters,' Dumbledore informed.

Hermione quickly looked where he was pointing, noticing for the first time a door, which from this angle was partly hidden behind a large bookshelf she couldn't wait to fill. She walked over to the door, clasped the doorknob, and turned to face the Headmaster at the last second.

'Thank you for this opportunity Professor,' she said, her excitement suddenly extinguished, replaced by earnestness. 'I know you're taking a big risk, employing someone so young in a position like Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall was a brilliant teacher. I just hope I can live up to her example.'

Dumbledore smiled. 'I have no doubt you can. Minerva taught you well, Hermione.'

'Thank you. I will do my best. I promise.'

Dumbledore nodded, still smiling his kindly old man smile. 'I will leave you to get settled. Any problems, you know where to find me. Dinner is at six tonight.'

'Thank you Prof… Albus.'

'Welcome back to Hogwarts, Hermione.'


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Blah blah blah. should just put a blanket disclaimer on the site for all the idiots that could possibly believe we actually own these stories or make any kind of a profit.

**A/N:** And they meet. Hope you guys like. Thanks for reading and for the awesome reviews. On a side note, I may not have access to the Internet for next six or so weeks. Long story. Hopefully I will, but if not, at least you know I haven't abandoned the story, and when I do get back, I should have lots of chapters written.

An Unconventional Affair

Chapter Two

Hermione spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon sorting out her new living quarters and office, unpacking her clothes and hanging them up in the wardrobe, sorting her books into alphabetical order on the bookshelf in her office, working her exceptional Transfiguration magic and redecorating both spaces to her liking, specifically replacing the tartan plaid that Minerva McGonagall had favoured with more earthy coloured designs.

Once done, Hermione sat cross-legged at the foot of her four-poster oak bed, and ran her hands along the cream sheets, smiling to herself as she admired her handiwork. She had kept the wardrobe as it was, nestled nicely into one corner. The tartan curtains that covered the window she had replaced with a plain off white material. On the walls, which had been bare in her predecessor's day, she had hung a few beautiful landscape paintings. The floors were simple wood panelling, upon which she had conjured a soft fur rug on her side of the king sized bed. She couldn't wait to dig her toes into it. Her trunk she had shoved up against the foot of her bed. Finally, she had decided to keep the bedside table, except she had changed the style to match her new bed.

'Perfect,' she said to herself.

This had taken Hermione well into the afternoon, so she decided to quickly go over her lesson plans for an hour or so, then head down to the staff room and see what was going on there.

Hermione found the staff room busier than when she had first visited. This time she had the chance to be formally introduced, or reintroduced, to her various colleagues. Remus was absent this time, but the redheaded Lily Potter took it upon her back to show her around. Most of the Professor she already knew from her time as a student at Hogwarts. Only Professors Vector and Burbage were new to her, the former middle-aged and stern faced, the latter short and plump.

Only one member of staff was noticeable absent – the Potions Master Severus Snape. He was a dour wizard, with long black hair and pale skin. When Hermione had been a student at Hogwarts, she had often looked at Snape and felt pity. Sure, he was a horribly biased Professor who favoured his own house Slytherin over any other, yet in him she saw a deep sadness.

'Does Professor Snape visit the staff room often?' Hermione asked Lily, as they sat together before the fire, warming their toes.

Lily looked at her inquisitively, seeming slightly surprised. 'Why do you ask?'

'I just wondered, is all.'

Lily thought about it a moment. 'No, he doesn't come here often. He's a solitary man.'

'Yeah,' Hermione said, 'I always thought that. When I was a student here, he seemed so sad all the time.'

'He's always been melancholy. Even as a boy.'

'You knew him when he was young?'

'I did. We grew up near each other.'

'What was he like then? Melancholy, I know, but sorry, I just can't picture him as a child.'

Lily laughed lightly. 'Oh, he was a child alright. I shouldn't talk about it though. He wouldn't like it.'

'Of course,' Hermione said, shaking her head. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's okay,' Lily assured her. 'Don't tell anyone, especially Severus, that we spoke about him. But he has always been a very loyal friend to me. He can be grumpy, true, but he has always been a true friend. Him and James do not get along, though. It's always been tricky, balancing my relationship with James and my friendship with Severus.'

'That must be hard.'

'It is,' Lily agreed.

'What are you two talking about?' Remus asked, coming up behind them and sticking his head between theirs.

'Nothing,' Hermione replied quickly, too quickly.

Remus raised his eyebrows. 'Indeed,' he said, disbelieving.

'Actually, we were just discussing how sexy you are,' Lily said teasingly, winking at him.

Remus laughed, while Hermione blushed. 'Oh really?' he said, acting shocked. 'That is highly inappropriate, you know. You, Lily, are my best friends wife. And Hermione, how could you? I could almost be your father!'

'I-I…' Hermione stammered, unable to think of anything clever to say.

Remus and Lily looked at each other and shared a grin. 'Hermione was just saying how she has always had a huge crush on you,' Lily joked.

'I did not!' Hermione protested, blushing profusely.

'And she said she loves it when you wear those tight pants that really show off your butt.'

Hermione gaped open mouthed at Lily; unable to argue she was so embarrassed.

'I've never felt so objectified,' Remus said with a barely contained smile, his hand over his heart.

'I never said that, I promise!' Hermione finally found her voice again.

Lily and Remus finally cracked and started laughing.

'Relax, Hermione,' Remus said, the first to get control of himself again. 'We're just teasing you.'

'I know, I would just hate for you to think that I had thoughts like that about you,' Hermione said, relaxing.

'Are you saying I'm not sexy?' Remus mocked a hurt look, giving her puppy dog eyes.

Hermione looked aghast, not sure what to say.

Lily came to her rescue. 'Give the poor girl a break, Remus.'

He did. 'I'm actually looked for Pamoma, have either of you seen her?'

'She was here a little while ago,' Lily said, 'but I think she went to check on her new Mandrakes. Greenhouse three, I think.'

'I'll find her. Thanks.'

Hermione watched him leave with relief. When she looked back at Lily, she found the older woman giving her a knowing look. 'What?'

'You _did_ have a crush on him, didn't you?'

Hermione went red again. 'Please don't tell him,' she whispered.

Lily laughed. 'Don't worry, your secrets safe with me.'

(-)

Hermione spent the rest of that day, and the next, getting ready for the arrival of the Hogwarts Express and the students it carried. She had already prepared most of her lessons, at least for the first term, but she wanted to make sure and double check everything, so she spent the majority of the time going over all her lesson plans and making sure she had everything she needed.

It was a relief to sit down at the welcoming feast for the first time as a Professor. Dumbledore gave her a lovely introduction and most of the Great Hall welcomed her with applause, save the lacklustre Slytherin table, but that was to be expected.

She found her stomach to be slightly queasy, so she didn't eat much at the feast, and even less the next morning. Her nerves started to kick in, and she began to panic, worrying about what she had got herself into, and if she was cut out to be a Hogwarts Professor.

Thankfully, her first class was a group of equally nervous first years, and she found the whole experience lessoned her nerves considerably. Of course, teaching first years was one thing, and she knew her last class of the day was a group of seventh years; a prospect she suspected might be more challenging.

So it was that she found herself sitting behind her desk, clutching her chair and focusing on breathing, as the seventh year class drifted in casually and took their seats. The only consolation was that the class in questions was a group of Gryffindors, so she thought they wouldn't give her too much of hard a time.

'Okay then,' Hermione said. She stood up, but stayed behind her desk, somehow feeling safer there. 'Hello. I'm Professor Granger.' She gestured to where she had written her name, bold and clear, upon the chalkboard behind her, feeling immensely self-conscious and silly. 'Professor McGonagall left a lot of notes on what you've covered, so there shouldn't be a problem, but if I do go over something you already know, feel free to let me know. Okay?' She paused, as if waiting for someone to reply. No one did. They just stared at her. She took a breath. '…Okay. So… I need to take the register. Just say here and raise your hand when I call your name.'

Hermione watched as she called each name, making a mental note as each person replied and raised their hand. Everything went fine, until she reached one name that stood out to her. 'Pot - ' Hermione paused, surprised. She cleared her throat. 'Sorry. Potter, Harry.'

No one replied or put their hand up. She waited a moment, and then repeated. 'Potter, Harry?'

'He's here,' a girl at the front of the class said, and pointed to the back of the room.

Hermione looked and saw a black haired wizard bent over a textbook, one hand scribbling away on parchment. She frowned and repeated, louder this time, a faint blush on her cheek at being ignored. 'Potter, Harry!?'

No response. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, every eye, save Harry Potter's, on her. She wasn't sure what to do.

'He won't reply,' the same girl said, 'not when he's in his zone like that.'

'Oh…' Hermione nodded. 'Okay. Erm. Thank you… Lavender?'

The girl, Lavender Brown, nodded.

Hermione put a tick by the incredibly rude and unusual Harry Potter's name, and then moved on.

Once the register had been completed, Hermione moved on quickly to her lesson plan, eager to put the embarrassing situation behind her. She felt anger towards Harry Potter, but tried to ignore it and get on with things.

As he proceeded through the lesson, it became clear to her that Harry Potter was not listening to a word she said. In fact, he was still leaning over his book and scribbling away on his parchment. Did he even realise he was supposed to be listening to her? Was he deaf or something? No one had told her anything about it, so she felt sure that wasn't the case. Someone would have warned her, surely. By his last name, she assumed he was Lily Potter's son, and certainly she would have said something if her son was deaf… right?

Finally, near the end of her lecture, Harry Potter stopped what he was doing and looked up. She noticed immediately, for she hadn't been able to take her eyes off him during the entire class. His emerald green eyes hit her like a punch, making her stumble slightly over her words. His eyes were the same as Lily's, except where hers exuded warmth, his were empty, like a void.

'And so it's not actually possible to transfigure anything of a small mass into something with a large mass, or vice versa. They have to be equal, like turning a button into a coin, or a chair into a small table. You couldn't turn a button into a table. Does that - '

'That is not true.'

For a second, Hermione wasn't sure who had spoken, until she found his unsettling eyes on hers.

Harry Potter looked at her blankly as he continued to speak. 'It does help if they are of equal mass, however, it is entirely possible to turn a button into a table.'

Hermione felt her anger rising again. 'It's not possible. I've tried it, and it doesn't work.'

'Then you must not be a very powerful witch,' Harry Potter said, quite calmly.

The class fell deadly silent. Everyone was either watching her, or Harry, or looking back and forth between them.

Hermione started to blush again, as she always did when she was angry. How dare he say that to her! 'How… how… how dare you…' She paused, not wanting to lose her cool. She took a breath to calm herself. 'Okay… prove it to me then.' Hermione grabbed a button from the box she had on her desk, with which she had been teaching the first years earlier, and tossed it over to him. 'Turn that into a table.'

Harry went to catch the button, but it hit his hand at the wrong angle and went rolling away. He frowned, the first expression she had seen him make, and then got up to retrieve it. Then he put the button on the floor, pulled out his wand, and with a single flick, transfigured the button into a very large table.

Hermione felt her mouth drop open. She had never seen anything like it. Everyone was looking at her, but she was too shocked to say anything. Who was this boy? It wasn't possible. She had tried everything she could think of in her attempts to perform differential transfiguration. She had failed every time. Yet here she was, witness to the ease with which this seventh year Hogwarts student did just that, with magnificent results.

'How?'

'I explained already. You must not be a very powerful witch.' With another flick of his wand, he returned the table to its button form and bent down to pick it up. He did not toss it over to her, as she expected, but placed it on his desk and retook his seat. Then he went back to his book, and his notes, and left Hermione to try and retake control of her class.


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Blah blah blah. should just put a blanket disclaimer on the site for all the idiots that could possibly believe we actually own these stories or make any kind of a profit.

**A/N:** Glad you guys are enjoying so far. I will explain Harry's unusual behaviour, but just out of curiosity, do any of you have any theories?

An Unconventional Affair

Chapter Three

As soon as the final student disappeared out the door, Hermione quickly packed away her things, storing the box full of buttons in a cupboard behind her desk and shoving her lesson notes into the top drawer of her desk. She was still angry and embarrassed after being showed up by one of her students, and was determined to find out what was going on with Harry Potter. She only just remembered to lock the classroom behind herself with a speedy flick of her wand; she was in such a hurry to get to the staff room. She felt like everyone was staring at her and talking about her as she hurried along the corridor, down three flights of stairs, through the door off the entrance hall, along another corridor (this one mercifully void of stares and whispers), and finally into the staff room.

Hermione found the person she was looking for, already relaxing with her feet up before the fire.

'I just had a very interesting encounter in my seventh year Gryffindor class,' she said, sitting down across from Lily Potter.

Lily looked up from the steaming cup of tea she was nursing. 'Oh.'

'Is your son always so rude? Or was it just me?'

Lily looked apologetic. 'I'm sorry. I should have warned you, I know, but it's not something I'm entirely comfortable bringing up. I was going to tell you. I hoped I'd have a bit more time… but I should have known the world would see fit to bite me in the butt.'

'So?' Hermione pressed.

'What did he do?'

'Well, where do I start?' Hermione felt her voice rising and worked to lower it as she continued. 'First, he ignored me. I thought he might be deaf or something, until one of the other students pointed out to me that he was… how did she put it? In his zone? And that he wouldn't reply. That was odd enough, but then, while I was in the middle of my lecture, he suddenly looks up and starts to argue with me. He said what I was saying was wrong, and then said that I was… not a very powerful witch, I think were his words.'

Lily winced.

'Yeah. And I don't know how he did it, but then he goes and proves me wrong. I've never seen anything like it. He performed differential transfiguration right before my eyes, and for the life of me, I can't wrap my head around it. I have tried for years to perform magic like that, read every book ever written on the subject, and to the best of my knowledge, it's not possible. So please, explain to me exactly what is going on with your son?'

Lily rubbed at her forehead and smiled sheepishly. 'Honestly, I don't have a real satisfactory answer for you. Except to say that, my son is different. He's always been like that. And he wasn't trying to be rude to you. It wasn't personal. That's just how he is. It's like he has no filter. He says what he means. I tried to teach him that it's not polite, that he can hurt people's feelings, but he just doesn't understand. It goes in one ear and out the other.'

'Fine,' Hermione said, 'but what about the differential transfiguration?'

Lily shrugged. 'As I said, I really don't have a satisfactory answer for you. Harry is very smart, and he especially loves Transfiguration. It's his passion. He spends nearly every waking moment studying it, practising it. Maybe he found something other wizards have overlooked?'

'I have studied it extensively, and I've found nothing that would indicate the possibility of differential transfiguration behind possible. That is, until your son shattered my reputation today.'

Lily laughed, and at Hermione's annoyed narrowed eyes, she held up her hands. 'Sorry. I'm not laughing at you. Don't worry about your reputation. Everyone in Hogwarts knows how special Harry is. They won't think any less of you.'

Hermione slumped back in her seat. 'But how did he do it?'

Lily smiled. 'You don't get stumped much, do you?'

'No. I don't.'

'Why don't you ask Harry how he did it? Come to have dinner with us tonight. You can ask him then.'

Hermione shook her head. 'I can't. I have to go for an interview for the Daily Prophet tonight.'

'Tonight?' Lily questioned. 'That's unusual.'

'Yeah,' Hermione replied, 'it was supposed to be on Sunday, but the witch that was going to be doing the interview got sick and couldn't do it. So I'm going to the editors house tonight for a quick interview instead.'

'Ah. Ginny Weasley?'

'You know her?'

'I do, through her parents.'

'What's she like?'

'She's nice. You'll get on. She just has a way with people. One of the reasons she's the youngest female editor of the Daily Prophet, I suspect.'

'I'm not really sure what to expect,' Hermione worried aloud.

'Relax,' Lily said. 'I did one. It's standard protocol with a new addition to Hogwarts. Just basic questions. Nothing to worry about. Anyway, so you can't make it tonight, what about Wednesday?'

'For dinner?'

'Yeah.'

'I dunno…'

'Come on,' Lily coaxed, 'it'll be fun. Harry's a softie really. And you can ask him about differential transfiguration. I know you want to.'

Hermione thought for a moment. She really had no desire to see Harry Potter sooner than she had to, but at the same time, she did want to know how he had done it… maybe one dinner would be worth it?

'Okay,' she said, 'count me in.'

(-)

Seven figures sat around a large round table, under dim lighting that illuminated only the table, talking amongst themselves, when the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, entered the room. Everyone came to attention, standing up until Dumbledore himself had taken his seat.

Around the table sat Albus Dumbledore's closest allies, those he trusted more than anyone else in the wizarding world. They were, in clockwise order around the table, Rubeus Hagrid, Remus Lupin, Lily and James Potter, the tall and raven-haired Sirius Black, and finally the redheaded couple of Arthur and Molly Weasley. There was an empty seat besides Dumbledore, usually filled with the moody form of Severus Snape.

'Is that everyone?' Arthur Weasley asked, looking around the table with a craned neck.

'What about Snape?' His wife Molly questioned, looking to the empty seat beside hers.

'Severus will not be joining us tonight,' Dumbledore replied.

'Off cosying up to Riddle, is he?' Sirius Black commented mistrustfully.

'He's doing what Dumbledore asked him, Sirius,' Lily Potter pointed out. 'That should be enough for you.'

'He is not here. That is all you need to know.' Dumbledore looked around the table, his gaze travelling over everyone, letting them know he wanted no further words on the subject of Severus Snape. 'Good. Now, let us begin this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix.'

'You had some news for us, Albus?' James Potter prompted.

'Indeed. Worrisome news, but not unanticipated. As I feared, Tom Riddle has entered himself into the race for the new Minister for Magic, and he will win, provided we do nothing to stop him.'

'We don't know he will win,' Remus Lupin argued.

'Come now, Remus,' Dumbledore said, shaking his head, 'let us not fool ourselves. Tom Riddle is much loved by the wizarding world. They see him as he intends, as all of you did, before I opened your eyes to the truth. Do not deny it. You loved him… yes, as I did, until he murdered my brother and nearly crippled me. We were all mistaken, but now we know the truth, and have the chance to stop this from happening.'

'What do we do then? How do we stop it?' Sirius Black asked, tucking a strand of his neck-length black hair behind his right ear.

'The wizarding public will never believe us if we come forward,' Dumbledore said. 'We have no proof that Tom is a dark wizard. I know he killed my brother, but I cannot prove it. And if I show them my memories of my battle with Tom, all they will see is Tom being attacked by me, unprovoked. To the unknowing eye, it will appear as if I tried to kill him for no reason, and he was simply defending himself.'

'But yeh must 'ave a plan,' Rubeus Hagrid said, his faith in Dumbledore unshakable.

'I do.'

'And? What is it?' This from James Potter.

'We must kill him,' Dumbledore said gravely.

'You plan to confront him again?' Lily asked, concerned.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. 'No. I cannot defeat him. I tried and he nearly killed me. I am, unfortunately, no match for Tom Riddle.'

'Then who?

Dumbledore looked at Lily, and then at James. Lily's face fell. 'No,' she said. 'Absolutely not.'

'What?' Sirius looked confused.

'Harry,' James said, stony faced.

'Oh.'

'He's still just a boy, Albus,' Remus pointed out, trying to be diplomatic.

'A boy far more powerful and skilled at magic than all of us in this room,' Dumbledore said.

Arthur and Molly Weasley remained silent, watching on with a parents understanding. Hagrid looked uncomfortable with the turn the meeting had taken. Lily glared at Dumbledore.

'It is our only hope, Lily,' Dumbledore said sorrowfully.

'I forbid it,' she said fiercely, getting to her feet, knocking her chair over backwards in the process. James stood up and went to grab her hand, but she batted him away. 'Don't, James! I will not have my son used as a tool for murder.'

'Lily,' James said soothingly, grabbing for her hand again and holding it tightly, making her look at him. 'I agree. It's out of the question.' James looked at Dumbledore. 'I'm sorry, Albus, but no. Not Harry. I agree, we need to take down Riddle, but surely there is another way?'

Dumbledore rubbed at the bridge of his nose, pushing his spectacles up onto his forehead. 'There is not. James. Lily. I know this is hard, but Tom must be eliminated, and Harry is the only one who can do it.'

'There has to be another way,' Remus said, again trying to be the peacekeeper.

'There is no other way,' Dumbledore snapped. The lights flickered as he rose to his feet. 'My brother sacrificed his life to reveal Tom Riddles darkness to us. We cannot allow it to go to waste. We cannot just sit here and do nothing. Sacrifices must be made.'

'He's our son!' Lily shouted.

'And Aberforth was my brother.'

'Enough,' Remus said, not raising his voice, but commanding authority. 'Arguing between ourselves will do no good. You both have an emotional investment in this situation that is clouding your judgement. I'm not agreeing with either of you, yet. We have time to assess things, and at least try and come up with another plan. Another solution. The election isn't for another six months. I suggest we try and come up with another plan.'

'And if we can't?' Sirius asked.

Remus looked at James and Lily. 'If we can't, we ask Harry what he wants to do.'

Lily looked at her friend long and hard, and then nodded, relaxing into her husbands embrace. James met Remus' eyes over the head of his wife, his eyes conveying thanks.

Remus turned to look at Dumbledore. 'Albus?'

The old wizard sighed and dropped into his seat. 'I agree.'

'Good,' Remus said with relief, although he sensed a silent amendment to Dumledore's last words.

_I agree… for now._


	5. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Blah blah blah. should just put a blanket disclaimer on the site for all the idiots that could possibly believe we actually own these stories or make any kind of a profit.

**A/N:** While reading this chapter, I implore you all not to panic :P All I will say is, have faith people. Also, this thing is probably going to larger than I originally intended, and include a lot more characters. Fair warning to those who just want to read about Harry and Hermione.

An Unconventional Affair

Chapter Four

Tuesday night saw Hermione pop into existence outside the home of Ginny Weasley, the youngest editor in the history of the Daily Prophet. Ginny had only been editor for the last year, taking on the post only days after her twenty-seventh birthday, but already she had proven herself more than capable of doing the job. Under her leadership, she had revolutionised the Daily Prophet, taking it from an old fashioned newspaper under the thumb of the Ministry of Magic and turning it into a paper that appealed to a wide range of readers and one that would not bow under the pressure of the Ministry. To some - primarily those within the inner circle of the Ministry - this made her somewhat of a trouble making radical, but to the majority of the wizarding world she was seen as a beacon of light in an otherwise corrupt system.

Thus, Hermione was a little apprehensive about meeting Ginny. She had never met the witch before, but everyone in the wizarding world knew who she was, and Hermione couldn't help but be a bit intimidated by her.

Hermione cast her eyes up at the ominous dark clouds that loomed overhead as she raced against the heavy wind towards the modest cottage Ginny Weasley called home, nestled in what looked to be a very precarious position on the edge of cliff in the south of England overlooking the English Channel. As soon as Hermione neared the structure, she could feel the magical protections working to keep both the cottage and the cliff side safely secure against rain, wind, and any other earthly elements that might seek to claim them.

The door opened before Hermione could raise a hand to knock. Ginny Weasley ushered her in quickly with a friendly smile on her round pleasant face, nicely framed by her short flame red hair. Hermione felt the warmth of the cottage hit her as soon as she stepped through the door, a very welcome sensation after the freezing night winds.

'Hermione Granger, I assume?' Ginny asked, as she shut the door and bolted it, both physically and magically.

'Yes, hi,' Hermione said.

'Nice to finally meet you,' Ginny said, holding out her hand. Hermione shook it. 'Luna wanted to do the interview, but I told her to go home and rest up. She really didn't look well. She is a tremendous assistant though, a brilliant writer herself, and my best friend. What can you do?' The way Ginny smiled, dimpling her cheeks, made Hermione feel immediately relaxed.

'It's no problem.' Hermione gestured to the many locks and bolts on Ginny's door. 'Expecting trouble?'

Ginny laughed. 'Oh, a witch in my position cannot be too careful.' Before Hermione could ask more, Ginny changed the subject. 'I know you came for an interview, and we will get to that, but unfortunately my brother is here at the moment. We can wait until he leaves, or if you don't mind…?'

'Erm…' Hermione didn't get the chance to think of an answer, before a casual voice called out from behind her.

'Way to ruin the surprise Gin.'

His voice was like velvet, and Hermione felt something inside herself, some deep womanly place, squirm at the sound. She turned to find him leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, a roguish grin on his handsome face. The colour of his hair perfectly matched his sisters, but his was wet and slicked back from his head to just about reach the back of his neck. One strand had fallen to the side of his face, and for some reason Hermione just wanted to tuck it behind his ear. What was wrong with her?

'Hermione,' Ginny began, with that long pained sound only a sibling could bring out, 'meet my brother, the oh so famous, oh so handsome, Captain and Chaser of the Chudley Cannons, Ron Weasley.'

Ron grinned. 'Such a fine introduction. Although not really necessary, right Hermione?'

'Oh, erm.' Hermione blushed, because she had no idea who he was. Quidditch was not exactly her cup of tea. That said just looking at the wizard made it clear that he was a star. He had the poise, the dress sense, and the good looks that, coupled with enough skill, would make him instantly famous.

Ginny laughed, ever perceptive. 'I don't think she has a clue who you are baby brother.'

Ron raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'Is that true?'

'Sorry,' Hermione said, blushing. 'I'm not a fan of Quidditch.'

'Ah, well.' Ron stepped away from the door, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans. 'No harm done. Mother always says I can be too big for my britches sometimes. A little reminder that to some I'm no more famous than a rock won't hurt me now, will it Hermione?' He smiled, baring his sparkly white teeth.

Hermione felt her stomach do flip-flops. She loved the way he said her name. 'No, I suppose not.' Did she always sound like an eleven-year-old girl, or was it just the effect this Ron Weasley had on her?

Ginny cleared her throat. 'Should I leave you two alone?'

'What? No.'

'No need,' Ron said, answering Ginny. 'I'm going to head off, although I wouldn't mind a quick word with Hermione.'

'Sure, okay.' Ginny went to kiss her brother on the cheek. 'Say hi to mum and dad for me.' She pointed to the room from which Ron had emerged and said to Hermione, 'I'll be through here when you're ready.'

'Okay,' Hermione replied, not entirely sure what was going on. Why did Ron Weasley want to talk to her exactly?

'So you're the new Transfiguration prof at Hogwarts?'

'Oh, yes, I am.'

Ron stepped closer to her. 'I was never very good at Transfiguration,' he said, and then put one hand on her shoulder, and the other on her waist. Hermione stiffened in surprise as he leant over and whispered in her ear, 'perhaps you could give me some private lessons?'

Hermione found herself struggling to breathe. She swallowed heavily. 'P-private lessons?' She felt stupid just repeating what he had said, but she had no idea what else to say.

Ron chuckled in her ear, then pulled back to look her in the eye. 'I'm asking you on out on a date, Hermione Granger. What do you say?'

'Erm.' Hermione fumbled for words. A date? With her? No one had ever asked her out on a date before, and certainly not a famous person. Not that Hermione cared about such things as being famous. She just never expected someone famous would ever consider her and all her plainness, when they could have any number of glamorous and beautiful women. And yet, here was Ron Weasley, asking her on a date.

'I'll pick you up Friday night,' he said, and before she could even think to form a reply, he kissed her cheek, patted her bottom, and was out the door.

Hermione wasn't sure how long she stood in the hallway, but eventually she turned to look at the door, out of which Ron Weasley had vanished. What was going on? Had she stepped into some bizarre world in which she was desirable?

Her senses came back to her all of sudden. She raised a hand to her cheek, which felt so hot she was sure her face must be bright red, and it was. She thought she should feel offended that Ron had so casually assumed she would agree to date him, not to mention the way he had kissed her and touched her bum, and yet she did not. In fact, she felt giddy about it. Flattered. Something she had never, ever experienced before. Something she almost thought she never would experience.

'Hermione?' The voice of Ginny cut through her thought-laden mind, and she turned to see the red haired witch standing in the doorway. 'You coming?'

'Oh, yes, sorry.'

_Get a hold of yourself Hermione_, she thought, as she followed Ginny into what was clearly her living room. _So some guy shows an interest in you for once and you go all ditzy like a teenaged girl? No. Pull yourself together. You're Hermione Granger, mature and sensible professor of Hogwarts._

'Have a seat,' Ginny offered. Hermione took a quick glance around the room first, noting the unmade fireplace, big enough to operate as a part of the Floo Network, and the complete lack of windows. The only light came from above, shining on the ceiling in a cross crossing pattern. Books and bits of parchment covered most of the furniture in the room, but Hermione managed to find a place to sit on the sofa by moving a few books aside.

'Nice place you have here,' Hermione said, trying to be polite.

Ginny laughed in a self-deprecating way. 'Yeah, sorry about the mess. I guess I need to find some time to tidy up the place. Easier said than done with my schedule.'

'No, it's…'

'It's bleak,' Ginny cut in. 'It didn't used to be, but I've got to be careful these days. There are people out there that would see me removed from my position as editor of the Daily Prophet, by any means necessary. I have to be safe, which means extra locks and protections, almost paranoid methods of privacy, and most importantly, easy, secure, and untraceable methods of escape.'

Hermione felt her blood run cold. She couldn't imagine living her life that way, and yet Ginny spoke so calmly about all of it, as if it was all perfectly normal. Hermione had a sudden thought, and looked at the fireplace again. Untraceable and secure methods of escape…

'Yeah, that is what you think it is. Although off the grid, sorta speak. It's not connected to the official network.'

'Should you be telling me all this?'

Ginny smiled. 'I trust you.'

'Why? I mean, thanks, but why?'

'Dumbledore trusts you.' Ginny shrugged. 'That's good enough for me.'

'Are things really so bad in the Ministry?'

'Yes, and getting worse.' Ginny pulled a chair free of debris over to sit in front of Hermione. 'But we're not here to talk about me.' She summoned a blank bit of parchment with a flick of her wand and magicked a quill out from behind her ear. 'So tell me Hermione Granger, have you always wanted to be a professor of Hogwarts?'

(-)

On a hillside outside Little Hangleton, the House of Gaunt stood abandoned, but for the presence of three figures. One of those figures could trace his birth back to this little broken down hut, loathe though he was to admit it. His name was Tom Riddle, and he was a well-dressed and pleasant faced man in his mid forties, with short brown hair and long limbs. The other two figures did not know the significance of the house, only that it was where Riddle chose to hold his clandestine meetings.

The first figure was named Severus Snape, and he stood by what remained of the front door, now no more than a broken slab of wood with rusted hinges. He watched with his emotionless black eyes as Riddle spoke to the other, much younger figure, Draco Malfoy.

Right now he felt sorry for the young wizard in front him, being given his first real task as a member of Tom Riddles secret organisation. Some amongst their ranks liked to call themselves Death Eaters. Snape supposed it was ominous enough to match the evil in Riddle's heart. Yet Snape did not sense any evil in the heart of young Draco Malfoy, only sadness and an eager need for approval.

'And so you understand the need for this task to be accomplished, don't you Mr. Malfoy?' Tom Riddle spoke softly, as was his way. 'It must be done well. Without suspicion. Perhaps an accident. With no way of being traced back to me.'

Snape could see Draco shaking slightly as the enormity of what was being asked of him settled in, his silver haired head bowing as if under the weight of the task. Snape thought for a moment that Draco would refuse - was almost sure of it, in fact - but then the young wizard tightened his fists at his sides and took control, long enough to say the fateful words that would change his life forever.

'Yes sir, I will do it. I will kill Ginny Weasley for you.'


End file.
